My Betrayal
by lightning027
Summary: A killer visits her in the night, and that visit changes her life.  Now she is becoming something she used to describe as a monster, and can do nothing to stop it.  Meanwhile, the attacker struggles between his feelings towards her and his pride. BBxOC
1. Prey

(A/N – why yes, this _is_ the fourth story I have posted today! And guess what else? Its death note! *smile*

This story is way different from the others. It is (and will be) much more mature than anything else I have made. It is also a bit more forward, because this was originally a oneshot, but I am expanding it to make it a story! Although it is mature, I will not be including ANY sex scenes. I'm thirteen. I'm lucky I could write what I already have (although implied sex I will include). So, here we are, BB gets some love! . . .well more like lust *evil smile*

I don't own Death Note, or the LABB murder cases. Those belong to Ohba, Obata, and Nisio Isin. If I did own them, BB so would have been in the actual manga, even if it would be for a panel. I mean Matt got like 10 panels, total, and look at what he has fangirl wise!

I would like to thank deathfox13 for telling me that there were no line breaks for POV ^^" sorry about that, but they show up on my word processor, and I had no clue that they didn't show on FanFiction.

The theme song for this chapter is Hit the Floor by Bullet for my Valentine.)

Chapter 1 - Prey

I woke from a deep sleep. I pulled the covers away from my face and tried to concentrate. My ears were sensitive, I woke even when there was a slight disturbance. When I had to share a room with my sister, who happens to snore like an old man, I just couldn't sleep. This also served as an early warning system for me. I had caught burglars, not trying to break into my house, but my neighbor's. I also had to buy a house because of this problem, unlike my friends, who all lived in apartments in the city.

I softly groaned. I couldn't hear a thing that wasn't normal. I reached for the glass of water on my nightstand, but found it empty. I sighed and shuffled to the kitchen, looking into every room as I went. Ever since I had been stalked by a very creepy kid in high school, I had been paranoid. I opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. As I was about to walk back to my room, I noticed the window in my living room was wide open. I walked to the window, making no sound as my bare feet glided over the soft carpet.

As I closed the window, I heard the slightest movement behind me. Burglar. I didn't move. I felt the disturbance in the air as the intruder made his way slowly towards me. I could hear his breath now. _Just a bit closer . . ._

"Hia!" I whipped around, swinging my right root in an arc and bringing it down on the creeper's arm. I had underestimated the intruder's height, meaning to break the collarbone.

"Umh . . ." The man's breath had been knocked out of him, but he was still standing. I noticed that he was holding a long knife in one hand, and that his hair was very long and unruly. I stepped back and positioned myself in a fighting stance. Thank god for Tae Kwon Do lessons.

The man lifted his head, and with an animal snarl, ran at me and slashed his knife at my neck.

_Don't be afraid of the knife, don't be afraid of the cut_, I thought, doing my best to block his blow, but still getting cut. Moonlight glinted off of the newly spilt blood.

The man regained his balance as I turned to face him. He was smiling like a madman, his red eyes glinting. _Red eyes? _He stabbed at my stomach, and I blocked it with my injured left hand, grabbing his wrist with my other hand and moving the knife to my other side. I then yanked on his arm, sending both our bodies to the ground, my knee landing on his forearm. I twisted his wrist and snatched the knife out of his hand.

The man looked genuinely surprised, and seemed to look above my head. "How does that even happen?" he whispered to himself.

"It's called self defense, scumbag," I growled, throwing the knife into the kitchen. He smiled, it was creepy and unnerving, but somehow seductive as well. _Oh, god, you need to get a boyfriend,_ an inner voice whispered to me

"You shouldn't have done that," he said, quickly pushing my knee off of his arm and practically jumping on top of my body, pinning my arms down and straddling my waist.

"_You_ shouldn't have done _that_," I countered, quickly jerking my hands to my waist, making his grip loosen. I then thrusted my hips off of the ground, surprising him and making him fall forward. I hooked his right arm with my left, and did the same with my feet. I then collapsed his stance, and straddled him. I noticed how sexually this all felt. _ Again, need to get a guy, you stinkin' virgin._

Before I could pin his arms, or even punch him, he had gripped my injured arm with both of his hands, and pushed his upper body out from under me. He wrapped both his legs around my stomach and used his strength to flip me over. As he was flipping me, he flicked his wrist, and a small switchblade fell out of the sleeve of his black T shirt. Aw, shit.

As I landed with him on top of me, he sat on my stomach, and used his knees to pin my hands to the floor. This was not helping my cut; it was bleeding more than ever. That evil smirk was prominent on his face as he brought the blade close to my cheek.

"Breathe Betrayal," he whispered, slicing my cheek with the knife. I flinched as the cold blade penetrated me.

"B . . . B," He said as he carved the letters into my skin. I tasted blood. I uselessly flailed my legs and tried to free my arms, but it was no use.

"How do you know my name?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice even, and succeeding.

"I have the eyes," he muttered cryptically, bringing a finger drenched in my blood along the corner of his eye. The stain it made was the exact color of his eyes.

"Wh-what are you going to do with me?" I cried, now frantically trying to free myself from the maniac's grip. If I could just get away, if there was one weak spot I could reach . . . but there was none. My knees banged on his back, but that made no difference. My hands were immobile, and I was nowhere close enough to bite him.

"Hm, I was asking myself the same question. Would you prefer to be chopped into bits and strewn about the house, or drowned in the bathtub? Perhaps both?" He contemplated, cupping his chin with his bloodied hand.

I was dead. I would die. This man would slit my throat, and then mutilate the rest of my body, in some sort of strange murder. I would die a virgin. Never married, no children. I had never even had a real boyfriend. Sure, I had dated, but never found anyone worthy. I never would. I was dead.

I cried silent tears as this man contemplated how to kill me. He noticed my tears and wiped them away with his clean hand.

"Don't cry, you will be a work of art, the first in the collection. Won't that be a great honor?" he mused, stroking my hair now. This guy was insane. He looked about my age. What had caused him to turn killer? To murder me?

"No, it won't! I want to live Goddamnit!" I yelled, using all my strength to push this man away from me. He fell to the ground and I ran down the hall, knocking over a table and tripping once. I stormed into my room and locked the door, pushing my dresser in front of it. I then started to rifle through my closet, pulling aside all sorts of useless items, looking for my weapon.

"Goddamnit!" I yelled hysterically, this was taking too long. My hands were shaking, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I cursed myself for the weak moment when he had me pinned. I wouldn't die. I won't let him kill me. I was the master of my own life, and I wouldn't let him take it.

I pulled my weapon from the closet, and waited for him to attack the door.

I snapped to my feet, dazed from her assault. She was obviously stronger than I thought she was. I licked her blood off of my fingers. No matter, she would die.

_Or will she?_ I thought. She was different. Her numbers, her lifespan, they kept changing. I only knew of one other person that could change their lifespan like that, and that was A. Today, when I had saw her on the street, her time was up. But when she had been fighting me, her span jumped to fifty years from this date. And for seconds, just barely flickers, it would jump to just under two years from now.

I was starting to doubt myself. I shouldn't do that. I need to end her life; I need to become greater than L. All this girl will ever be is a pawn. A pawn in a game bigger than hers.

I pressed my ear to the door, my staff gripped tightly. My Bo staff, which I hadn't used in years. It was still covered in cobwebs and a few bloodstains.

I could hear him shuffling down the hall, he was obviously winded. But he still had that knife. I twisted the staff in my hands. I had moved the dresser from in front of the door. If there was going to be a standoff, it was going to be fair. I wasn't going to cower. I was a fighter.

"Trick or treat?" the killer whispered through the door. I jumped slightly, not expecting his voice to be so close. My heartbeat sped up, and I stepped back from the door.

"No treat? Well, we can't have that," he said, creeping me out. Fingernails ran down the door, making scratching noises that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He then turned the doorknob, slowly, as if he knew that would creep me out more than just charging in with that animal glare.

As the door opened, his shadowed form appeared, and the moon was released from its cloud covering. We were both bathed in moonlight. Blood dripped from my arm onto the carpet, staining my pajamas as it went. The blood from my cheek ran down my face, and down my neck, soaking my hair. I raised my staff and contorted my face into what I could only describe as a snarl. No one messes with Breathe Betrayal and gets away with it.

He eyed the staff, and his blade glinted as he stalked into the room. He was still smirking, his red eyes shining.

_Get on with it! Charge me already! _I thought as I gripped my staff. He finally attacked, slashing downward from my left to my right. I blocked it with the staff, spinning with it so that it was knocked from his hands. He stared at me, astonished. It was my turn to smirk. I swung at him, connecting with his midsection. I used my leg to sweep his feet out from under him, and grabbed his switchblade, still covered in blood. I straddled his midsection and used my knees to pin down his arms, just like he had done to me.

I brought the blade to his face, and sliced down his jawline. He moaned.

"How do you like it!" I growled, venom dripping from my words. I actually enjoyed causing him pain. Cutting him released my anger like fighting with my fists never could. It was like I was carving my pain deep into him.

"I don't . . . I love it," he moaned as I sliced into his skin again. I took the knife away from his face, disgusted by his answer. What kind of sick pup was he? Then something clicked. He couldn't be enjoying this, no one was sick enough. He was trying to fool me, to disgust me into dropping the knife and giving him the upper hand. I wasn't buying it.

I carved into the skin around his eye and he actually quivered under my touch. "Breathe . . ." he murmured, his eyes rolling in his head. I smirked. I liked this power, this feeling that I could control him, that I was the predator and he the prey.

God, I was enjoying this. I had never been cut before; I had never even been resisted before this night. I was feeling what my victims had felt, those few practice runs before the real killing. I had never felt pain like this. I wouldn't even call it pain, I would call it _ecstasy._

As she cut me, she smirked, obviously pleased by the results, even though she would not admit it to herself. As I watched her face, I noticed her lifespan. It was spinning, numbers turning so fast it made my head hurt. And as I watched, they flashed red and the date appeared, the one two years from now. It seared into the air, finalized. It occurred to me that she had chosen her path, and that she would not die tonight, no matter how much I tried to kill her.

_God_, I was enjoying this. I needed more of this power, this need for blood. I took the knife and sliced his shirt open. He stared at me, waiting for my next move. I slid down his body, eyeing my new canvas. I brought a bloody hand to my face, cupping my chin.

"You are more like me than I expected," he purred. He slid his hands out from the grip of my knees and flipped my over, taking the knife from me. I growled. What right did he have to take my power?

He pinned me to the ground, his blood mixing with mine as it dripped off his chin and onto my face. As he positioned himself on top of me, I couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes. It wasn't the look of a pissed off killer, it was a look of lust. Oh, great job Breathe, now you have a deranged and _horny_ murderer.

He seemed fixated on my still bleeding cheek. He leaned down, rubbing his hands up my arms as he grew closer to my face. I shivered, I was so scared. Not of him, of my own feelings. I couldn't tell if I was shivering because of fear or pleasure as his bloody hands rubbed against my skin. He brought his tongue to my cheek and lapped up my blood, leaving my body tingling. Inside my mind, I was at war.

_Knee him in the crotch! Bite him! Get him off of you!_ yelled my sensible side_. Don't do a thing! Moan! Bite him! _cried the side of me that wanted to just melt into his touch. I was so confused, I didn't know what to do. I had always been strong when faced with a challenge like fighting or solving a problem. But boys, men, whatever you want to call them, I was a goner when faced with that kind of decision.

As he lapped at my cheek, I moaned. I had given in to my desires. I didn't care if this man was a killer now; I knew that I was better than him, that he was weak compared to me. He was some killer if he could be distracted by such a simple thing as lust. I was some fighter to be distracted by the same damn thing.

He sunk his teeth into my neck, bringing me back from my thoughts. I screamed as blood began to pour from me in yet another place. He sucked on my neck as if he were a vampire and his very being depended on the liquid. I wound my hands into his hair as pain and pleasure mixed together to create this feeling. I couldn't describe it. I couldn't describe anything right now.

"What's your name?" I panted. I wanted to know so that I could scream it to the heavens, declare that I was the one who had cut him. He was my prey and no one else could have him.

"Beyond . . . Birthday," he growled between bites as he nipped at the skin on my neck. I had enough of this, and rolled us over so that I was on top now. Before he could say a thing, I bit him like he had done to me, and I tasted the metallic tang of fresh blood.

He rolled us over again, and pushed his mouth onto mine. The kiss surprised me. It was softer, yet still passionate and urgent. I wrapped my hands around his naked shoulders, pulling him to me, not able to get enough of him.

I had been kissed before, by two different people. John, in sixth grade. He hadn't really known what he was doing, and it was unsatisfying. Rick, in college. He was all passion, he would just stick his tongue down my throat with no warning.

But Beyond, oh dear Lord.

It was amazing.

He slid his tongue into my mouth and explored me. I let him as I just melted into his touch, it was as if I was dying of thirst and he was water. I needed him with all my being, just needed him. He moved to my neck again, nibbling my earlobe.

"Beyond . . ." I mumbled. He trembled as I whispered his name. He flipped up over in the pool of blood we had created. I was now on top of him. He picked up the knife that had been discarded in our passion.

"Breathe, cut me," Beyond murmured, almost pleadingly. I smirked, gripping the knife in my hand and feeling that same power pulsing through my veins. I had control. No one could take this feeling away from me.

I carved into his skin, and Beyond moaned and arched into the blade. I sliced move of his skin, carving my name into him. I would always be a part of him, he would carry that with him always. By the time I carved the last E into his chest, he had actually reached his climax.

"Oh, god, BREATHE!" he screamed, releasing his passion.

I felt the exact same way, the power from the knife seeping through my body to my very core. I had climaxed long ago, but the power still pulsed through me, leaving me breathless.

"I know, Beyond," I murmured, cuddling against his bloody chest, licking his wounds. I had branded him as my own, claimed him.

He stroked my hair, his eyes closed. I could tell he was exhausted, as was I.

My ears pricked, their sensitivity sensing a buzz. My eyes widened and I pushed off of Beyond.

"What is it?" Beyond asked, half annoyed, half worried.

"Cops," I simply said, and he understood immediately. I threw his shirt to him, and he picked up the knife. I felt as if a piece of me was being torn away.

"Evidence," he whispered, understanding my anguish. I nodded. He walked down the hall, wiping things down with his bloody shirt as he went, making sure no prints were left behind. I stared down the hallway, watching him leave.

I would not let the police arrest him.

He was my prey.

Not theirs.


	2. Tainted

**(A/N –** I would like to thank, Stormygio for reviewing this story! Yes, Stormygio was the only one that reviewed. Oh well, as long as you guys enjoy my work. I promise I'll message you once I get my own email, Stormy!

This chapter turned out differently than what I expected. I was originally planning on this ending somewhere along the lines of lustful actions, if you know what I mean. Instead, I ended up with whatever the hell you wanna call this. Is it horror? Is it fluff? Is there even such a _thing _as in character BB fluff? The world may never know . . .

Theme song for this chapter: Monster by Skillet. And some sort of dark remix version of Your Love Is My Drug by Ke$ha for Beyond's inner thoughts. )

Chapter 2 -Tainted

I walked through the dark street with two of my friends. I was still very uneasy and anxious. I couldn't stop thinking about that night, nearly a month ago, when a man called Beyond Birthday had become mine. Not a day passed when I didn't think about _him_.

When the police had arrived, I had to quickly come up with a story. I was a terrible liar, so I just said that a man had broken into my house and tried to kill me, but I had fought him off and then he ran away. The police bought it, stupid as they are. I gave them a description of a person that was unlike Beyond in every way.

When my friends had found out about my ordeal, they had been scared shitless. They had all asked me if I wanted to sleep at their houses or if there was anything they could do to help me in my time of need. Many even offered to buy me medicines or give me treatments to get rid of my scar, the double B across my cheek. I refused. That was a part of me now.

I had rejected the housing offers, with my ears as an excuse. The real reason I wanted to stay at my house was to see if Beyond would show up, although I highly doubted it would happen. I allowed them to manicure my nails and take me out to clubs, but I really wasn't into it.

My whole personality had changed since that night.

He had changed me.

Before, I had enjoyed Tae Kwon Do and a few hours at the shooting range, although I didn't own my own gun. I had enjoyed quiet activities like sewing and reading as well, along with mind games and puzzles. I had worked at a supermarket.

Now, I was practicing karate a lot more than I used to. I was very interested in the knife self defense techniques, and also their sword classes. I had stopped sewing, and only read murder mysteries and horror books. I had become obsessed with Rob Zombie films and hard rock. I had bought my own knife just two days after I had encountered him.

I touched the knife in my pocket as we walked to my friends' apartments.

"Breathe, are you sure you'll be alright?" Mercy asked , her hand on the doorknob.

"Yeah, you could always stay with us, we know you're still freaked about that creeper last month," Acid added.

_Was it really that noticeable? _

"No, it's OK guys, I'll be fine at my place. Stay safe," I replied, waving at them with my free hand.

"We could walk you home," Mercy offered, walking towards me.

"No!" I said a bit too quickly. I composed myself and spoke again. "I'll be fine, really. Get some rest."

We said our goodbyes and I walked down the dark street with my hoodie pulled closely around my shoulders. It was chilly tonight, and I was lucky that I had remembered it. Rarely a summer night would be this cold.

I slid my hand along the knife, its weight comforting. I had become attached to it, to the memory of that night. It brought me security, I carried it for more sentimental value than defensive purposes.

Just as I was about to make a turn, I heard a bloodcurdling scream. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I pulled the knife from my pocket, running to the noise. I ducked into an alley, where a large man was trying to have his way with a small and unhealthy looking woman. I smelled beer and sweat as I pounded down the pavement.

Before I made my move, I noticed a few details about this scene. One, the woman looked like a prostitute, and two, the man was obviously drunk and hadn't paid the proper fair for her services. And he wasn't going to.

Just as he was about to rip off her short skirt and do what he had come to do, I stormed down the alley. He didn't see me until it was too late.

I ripped the whore from his grip and punched him in the face with the hand that held my switchblade. I then kneed him in the groin. As he bent over in pain, I gave him a sharp uppercut in the jaw. He fell backwards. He looked scared, and scooted backwards with his elbows.

I growled, disgusted by him. Before I knew what I was doing, I had opened my blade. The man saw it and fled, picking himself up and running for a chain link fence at the end of the alley. I ran after him, catching up quickly to him. He was carrying extra weight from fat and beer, I was smaller and more agile.

I threw my knife and it stuck into his back. He let out a shriek as he fell to the ground. I pulled the knife from his back and flipped him over.

"Oh, please, please don't kill meh! I wouldn't 'ave done it, I was just playin' with 'er! Please!" The man begged drunkenly. But I couldn't hear him. Blood was pounding in my ears, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"Bastard," I whispered. Before I could stop myself, I took the knife and plunged it into his neck. Blood poured, soaking him and my hand. I staggered back as he made gurgling sounds. I was panting, and thoughts were whirling through my head.

You killed a man_! No, he's not dead, is he? He can't be dead!_ You stuck a knife in his neck, you expect him to live? Are you stupid? MURDERER!

"No . . . NO!" I yelled, holding my head in my hands and staring at the man, now dead. He could have had a family, he just made a mistake while he was drunk, he didn't deserve to die.

_But maybe he deserved it, maybe the world will be a better place without all the filth . . ._

"NO!" I yelled again. I couldn't be thinking like this, that people deserved to be slaughtered because of their mistakes . . . but what if I was right? What if the world would be better without criminals. Without all the people who do wrong.

_But that would make you a criminal . . ._

I shook my head, pulling my bloody hands away from my face. I pulled my knife from his neck and wiped his blood on my pants. I was shaking. My hand holding the knife twitched, and I felt the urge to cut the man again, to feel blood . . .

MONSTER!

I backed away from the body, scared by my own thoughts. As I was backing up, I bumped into something. I turned quickly, and came face to face with the prostitute I had saved. She was staring up at me with makeup-caked eyes full of terror. She screamed, and turned to run. I reacted instantly, grabbing her forearm with my left hand and slitting her throat with my right. She gurgled as blood poured onto my hands for the second time that night. I dropped her body before she had even died, staggering backwards, staring at my hands in horror, wondering why the hell I had just done that.

_Well you did it because if you hadn't, you would have been caught by the police and sent to jail, possibly sentenced to death._

I saw the sense in the thought, and wondered when I had started thinking like this, like a criminal. If I was watching a detective show or reading a murder novel, I had always thought I could commit a better crime than them, just because I was smarter. I had never been serious, of course. I had never seen the reason to murder someone, or to commit any type of crime.

Now I did my best to calm myself, so stop shaking. I was terrified of what I did, of what I had become. But that was not important right now, I could worry about it later. What I needed to do was cover up my crime, make it the perfect murder. Then worry about never killing again.

I pulled the body of the woman to the fence where I had murdered the man. I observed the bodies, and a light bulb seemed to pop into my mind. The man's wounds could easily be mistaken for suicide. I stuffed the woman into a dumpster in the alley, deciding that I would make it seem as if he had murdered her and then himself. I left the man where he was. Then I scoured the alley for any sign of a struggle. I found nothing that would suggest the man had been attacked by someone.

I then needed to find a murder weapon. I looked into the dumpster for a knife, but came out empty handed. I paced, and then decided that I would just have to give up my switchblade. I swabbed it clean of my prints with my hoodie, then placed it loosely in the man's hand, making sure to get some of his prints on the handle. When I was satisfied with my work, I walked away from the alley.

After a block, my emotions and the realization of what I had done finally hit me. I was a murderer. A killer. A monster. What had happened to me?

I felt like I had contracted some sort of terrible disease that eats away at you, not just your skin, but your soul. I sobbed uncontrollably, so hard I couldn't walk anymore. I stumbled into a building, and slid into a seated position, crying like a baby.

I was confused.

So very, very confused.

Breathe was a two sided subject for me, though no one talked to me about her. I have no friends. The way she made me feel was alien, it was a greater rush than killing, but also much more dangerous.

I lusted for her, I will admit that much. I had never felt the voluntary touch of a woman, and my experiences with Breathe left me craving more. I loved how it felt when she cut me, I loved kissing her, drinking her blood, all of it. It was amazing.

But she had power over me, and that was not something I enjoyed feeling. I was always the one with power, the one holding the knife. But now she was the wielder, and I was not sure how I felt about it.

Breathe was a drug, addictive and wonderful, yet able to destroy my life with just one overdose.

I had resisted the urge to find her so far, partially by telling myself her house was probably guarded and also because I had a sickening feeling that she might not want me to find her again. I didn't want to be sickened by this thought; I just wanted to be free again, not confined to a relationship I didn't even ask for in the first place.

I needed to get Breathe out of my mind so I could begin surpassing L, and carry out my plan. But I had been distracted lately, and hadn't killed a soul in almost a month. I needed a victim.

And that was exactly what I was looking for that chilly night, walking down the lonely streets. Looking for a victim, someone to dissect, a pawn for my game against L.

I tripped over something in my oblivious concentration, and I hissed.

A form was crumpled in front of a trashy building, feet sticking into the sidewalk.

"What the hell!" I heard as someone tripped over my outstretched legs. The voice seemed familiar. I sniffed and looked up, seeing a figure I had hoped to see for a month.

"Be-Beyond?" I hiccupped, hoping to god it was really him, that I wasn't going crazy because of the dark deed I had preformed that night.

He turned, facing me. His red eyes were wide in shock, and in surprise he looked almost innocent.

"Breathe," he said, so soft it was barely a whisper. I leapt up from my crumpled position and threw myself into his arms, sobbing into his shirt.

"Oh my god . . . Breathe," Beyond said. He hadn't returned my embrace, simply standing there as if he was incapable of comforting another human being.

"What happened?" he asked. I looked into his eyes, still full of shock, pity, and . . . caring? I was seeing things. His soulless red eyes must be incapable of such a thing.

"Beyond . . . I killed someone tonight," I managed to speak without sobbing uncontrollably. His eyes widened even more, and he brought his hands to my shoulders.

"What! How?" he looked genuinely shocked by the fact I had killed. Not disgusted or afraid of me, just stunned.

"I was just going to stop him from raping her, just rough him up enough for him to run away . . . but I don't know what came over me, something animal . . . and he was dead. I killed the girl too . . . I killed them all," I whispered. My tears had dried, and only a strange calmness and realization remained.

"Two people . . . you . . ." Beyond stared at me in amazement. I would have rather had him be scared shitless by my statement than scrutinize me like an experiment.

"Stop it!" I yelled, "just run away from me already, you must be afraid of me, you must think I'm a monster . . ." I turned away from him, expecting him to leave. But he took my shoulder and spun me around so that I was facing him.

"You think I, of all people, would be scared of _you_ for killing someone? Breathe, I have killed many people. I remember my first, and I was scared too. But Breathe, you're not a monster. You are beautiful. A predator maybe, but not a monster," he looked me in the eyes as he spoke.

"Beautiful? How can someone so tainted and foul be beautiful, Beyond! I'm hideous because of the deeds I've committed, the lives I've taken. I may have been beautiful before, but I never will be again," I whispered, not meeting his gaze.

"Breathe, listen to me. I don't fucking care what you've done. You can kill a thousand men, burn a thousand churches, drink blood from dying infants, but that will never change what you are to me. If you haven't noticed, we met while I was trying to_ kill_ you. If you think you're a monster, then I'm just an abomination. But even if you are tainted, you are still beautiful to me, covered in blood and plagued by sin. Because compared to me you are an angel, even if it is a fallen one. You're strong, Breathe, that's what I like about you. So get up off your ass and accept that you're fucking beautiful, or I swear I'll walk away and never look back."

I glared at him, but I saw his reasoning. To any other girl, this speech would have made them cry or smack the man that had given it to them. But I was different, like Beyond said. This speech was the closest thing I would be able to get from Beyond that even resembled caring or compassion. He really did love me, even if it was a twisted love rooted in sin and murder. I would choose his love over a normal relationship any day. To him I was beautiful, although it is a tainted beauty.

I hugged him again, nuzzling my head into his shoulder. This time he actually responded, placing a hesitant and on my waist and another in my hair. He smelled strongly of blood, but faintly of strawberries. I smiled. Even beneath a killer, there is some form of compassion, some innocence, some love. I had found Beyond Birthday's weak spot, and now I could access those feelings that he had kept bottled up inside him, those feelings of love and compassion.

I can't say for sure how long we stayed like that, embracing in a dirty street on a cold summer night. But I did know that I heard him utter four words, just loud enough so that I could hear.

"I love you, Breathe," he whispered.

"I love you too, Beyond," I breathed.

Beyond Birthday never said those words again.

**(A/N –** for those of you that are confused right now, no, Breathe didn't kill Beyond or anything like that. Beyond just never told Breathe he loved her ever again. Understand? Good.)


	3. Defilement

(A/N – This story is hard to write. Why? Well, first it was just going to be a oneshot with a fairly simple or no plotline. I personally think there's a plot to the first chapter, but oh well. When I started writing it, the only thing I knew about the OC was that she knew karate and had good hearing. I made Breathe up on the spot.

The bad thing is, now I have no clue how I want to end this series, or where to go with it. Time to reread the LABB Murder Cases for inspiration.

The following chapter implies sexual activity. If you would not like to read it, you can just skip to the next chapter, I guess. If you're mind yelling at me "WHY DIDN'T YOU WRITE AN ACTUAL SEX SCENE" with multiple exclamation points, there are three reasons. 1. I am underage, so I shouldn't be writing about that kind of stuff. 2. I'd probably mess up while describing the mechanics. Since I don't know about it, I won't write it. And 3. It would probably scar me mentally. I'm just not ready yet.

I would like to thank Stormygio and deathfox for reviewing! Love you guys!

I couldn't find a song that fit this, so here's some random lyrics from The Bleeding by Five Finger Death Punch)

_As wicked as you are..._

_you're beautiful to me._  
><span>

Chapter 3 – Defilement 

Beyond stepped away from me, looking at the ground. I could see that he was embarrassed by what he had said, that he couldn't believe he had said it. But I heard it in his words, and I could see it in his face as he clenched his fists. He meant what he had said. He had spoken the truth, even if he didn't know it himself.

I stared at the pavement, mentally slapping myself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could you have shown weakness like that? You know what you said was a lie, you've only seen this girl twice! There is no such thing as love that matures this quickly.

But, in my subconscious mind, I knew that I really did love her. I had spent hours, days even, thinking about her, longing to see her, to feel her touch, to hear her voice. Isn't love like that? A mindless dependency on another person, so mindless even, that one can forget all logical thought if they go without contact long enough?

Yes, love was like a drug, or at least it had that effect on me. I was allowing this drug to gnaw away at me, to eat away at the tough outside that was my actions, the killing and defiling of bodies, the insanity, what I thought was my true self.

Now I know that it is not, because this drug revealed to me what is beneath that part of me, hidden deep inside. So deep, in fact, that even I hadn't known of its existence. The emotions of a normal, sane, human being: compassion, caring, pity, deep and uncontrollable lust, protectiveness, and love.

A few of these emotions, such as lust, protectiveness, and pity, I overlooked at first. These emotions couldn't hurt me, except for lust, maybe. But as I grew more attached to Breathe, I learned that the emotions she made me feel made me soft, vulnerable. And I hated that.

But I loved her.

"You need to wash the blood from your hands. Come with me," Beyond commanded, finally looking at me.

I nodded, and began to follow him, but I tripped on an imperfection in the pavement and fell flat on my face, scraping my arms and knees.

"Well, I suppose the blood could be mistaken for mine now," I laughed quietly. Beyond stopped in his tracks and helped me up.

"Idiotic," Beyond mumbled as he helped me to my feet.

"If I'm idiotic, you're an asshole," I spat. If he was going to call me out on my every fault, I could just leave and wash off in a public bathroom.

"No, it's idiotic a serial killer would be doing something kind," he mumbled, shrugging off my comment.

Now I did feel idiotic. I took Beyond's outstretched hand and we continued at a steady pace to wherever Beyond was taking me, walking like this for at least fifteen minutes.

We stopped in front of an old apartment building in a part of town I didn't know. I looked at Beyond questioningly, but he didn't see the look and led me into the building.

We climbed a set of stairs, and he led me to a room with a plaque that had "13" engraved into it. He opened the door and I followed him inside. The room was much cleaner than I expected it to be, but the furniture was still faded and ripped in places. The tables weren't polished to a perfect sheen, and the carpet needed to be replaced.

He led me into a bedroom, and then to the bathroom that it was connected to. I walked in and shut the door, locking it, and then looking at myself in the mirror.

My hoodie was shredded from the fall, and so were my jeans. I took then both off, so I was just standing in my panties and a tank top. I began to wash the blood from my skin, and to clean out the wounds. I found some alcohol in the medicine cabinet, and poured a bit on my knees, clenching my teeth as it cleaned. I then washed my wounds out again, and washed my face as well. I put my jeans back on, but left my mauled hoodie in the bathroom. Maybe I could wash it out later. But right now I was wondering what Beyond was doing. I had been in the bathroom for at least twenty minutes.

The door creaked as I opened it, and I was engulfed in blackness. I waited until my eyes adjusted, then found my way across the dark room, occasionally tripping over something and almost falling on my face again. I finally made it to the light switch and turned it on. But nothing happened.

"Beyond, what the hell?" I mumbled as I clumsily made it to the bed. I sat down, hoping that Beyond would show himself soon. I was getting paranoid, and nothing good ever happens when I'm paranoid.

Before I could react, legs wrapped around my midsection and a knife was pressed to my throat. I gasped, and quickly ripped the knife from my neck, twisting the hand that held it. The legs around my stomach tightened, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. Finally, the hand released the knife, and I cut a bare foot that was trying to constrict me.

"Ow!" I heard, and turned around to face Beyond's ruby eyes.

"Why do you always have to attack me?" I mused, crawling on top of him and bringing the knife to his neck.

"Why the hell do you always have to disarm me?" he asked, pulling another knife out of the pocket of his jeans and holding it to my face.

"You don't play fair," I pouted, contemplating how to get the second knife away from him.

"How can you cheat in a game that has no rules?" Beyond asked, flipping us over. "All's fair in love and war," he practically sung, drawing the blade along my collar bone. The blade hurt, but to me it seemed to not just bring pain, but also pleasure, because the man using it was the man I loved.

"What was . . . your real intention when you brought . . . me . . . oh . . ." I moaned as Beyond licked the cut, which was no wider than a strand of hair. The sensation of tongue on skin left me breathless, and I tangled my hands in his hair.

"I think you can figure it out," Beyond purred, snaking his hands down my body and around my waist, drawing me closer to him while he continued to lick. My thoughts were jumbled, but I was still able to faintly understand the meaning of his words, and pushed him off of me, raising my knife in authority.

"Beyond, I don't know if I'm ready yet . . ." I trailed off, looking at the floor. Being a twenty two year old virgin is not something to be proud of.

"You've never . . . done anything?" Beyond looked at me, confused. I glared at him.

"No, as a matter of fact I haven't. I'm not the kind of person that just throws herself at someone once she turns eighteen and says 'oh, I'm of age, fuck me _now_!'" I mimicked. Beyond rolled his eyes in the dim light.

"I knew that, idiot," he said, ruffling my hair. "I just thought that someone as beautiful as you would have had some love already."

I sighed, not sure whether to bring up the "beautiful" argument again, or to just explain why I'm still a virgin. I went with the second option.

"I just never saw anyone worth it. I mean, it's my purity, it should be special when I'm stripped of it," I explained. Then I realized I had called myself pure. I am anything but pure now, having killed two people. Maybe I should just have Beyond take it. I'm not pure anymore, so why should I stay a virgin? The whole reason I had been holding out was meaningless to me now. And the perfect man was sitting in front of me this very second, asking to rid me of the burden.

I looked at Beyond sheepishly. "Got a condom?"

He smirked. "Oh, fuck the condom, condoms are for pussys."

"My point exactly," I countered. Was he insane? Did he _want_ a little serial killer running around?

"You're on the pill, aren't you?" he grinned even wider and my mouth dropped open.

"You stalker! And the pill doesn't guarantee that I won't get pregnant!"

"Well, we'll just have to take that risk, 'cause I didn't buy any condoms."

"If we have a baby, I'm keeping it," I said, defeated. Beyond climbed on top of me again.

"Now, where were we?" He asked, kissing down the side of my neck. I felt goosebumps on my arms and neck as he nipped and licked. Once I grew bored of that, I brought his face to mine, and we kissed.

I let Beyond explore my mouth, his long tongue running over my short one. I wrapped one of my hands in his shirt, and the other in his thick hair, and pulled his as close to me as possible, taking in his taste, his scent, and loving every second of it.

His fingernails raked down my arm, leaving red marks on my pale skin. I shivered, feeling the tickling sensation of nails on flesh. I was getting bored again, so I flipped us over so that I was on top. Beyond's hair fell around him like a halo of darkness, and his red eyes gleamed with amusement.

"If we're going to do anything, why the hell do we still have our clothes on?" I asked, picking up my discarded knife and cutting open his shirt like I had done the night we met. My eyes skimmed over his body, and me heart skipped a beat when I saw my name, the name I had carved into his chest. Beyond had closed his eyes, and quivered as I ran my fingertips over the scars. The way he reacted sent a flood of hormones through my system, and I attacked his chest and neck, flinging the ruined shirt and knife into an unknown corner of the room. I sent openmouthed kisses down his throat, enjoying the taste of his skin, the shivers it sent down his spine. I moved to his well defined shoulders, biting down on the muscles and sending Beyond into howls of pain and pleasure. I ran my tongue over the hickeys I had created, trailing down his chest and onto the scars again. I nipped and licked at them, sometimes drawing blood from wounds that still had not healed.

"Breathe . . . don –" he was cut off as he moaned, his back arching as I nipped at the A in his chest. He stuck his hands in my hair, pulling me closer to his chest.

"Don't . . . stop," he whispered. I smirked. I still had control of him. I moved down his chest, kissing well defined abbs and dipping my tongue into his navel, making him moan once more.

"You'd think a serial killer would have more self control," I mused, my hands playing with the top of his jeans.

"You'd think that a virgin killer wouldn't be such a tease," he countered, although he was so obviously aroused by my actions that he needed larger pants.

"Now, who said that a person like me wouldn't be a tease?" I laughed as he flipped us over. The sheets were already partially bloodstained by our wounds.

"Why the hell are you still dressed!" Beyond asked playfully, reaching for the other knife.

"Symbol of power?"

I yelped as he cut through both my tank and my bra, and flung them both into the darkness. I felt exposed and weak, vulnerable without the clothing.

He kissed and nipped at my chest, violating an area that had never been touched before. I squealed as he raked the knife down my arm in time with his kisses, but I eventually got used to it, and moaned in pleasure as Beyond found a particularly sensitive spot. He twisted the knife, leaving a curved pattern on my skin. He nipped at the skin of my stomach, raking his teeth along it as if he was going to eat me alive.

He then proceeded to remove me pants, without the knife, thank God, and started kissing my legs, starting with the ankle and moving upward, cutting the leg he neglected. I groaned again, grabbing the sheets as he moved upward.

"Are you ready?" Beyond asked, undoing his zipper. I gulped, and nodded.

Screams and shouts were heard as my killer defiled me in the most beautiful way imaginable

_You're the darkest burning star, _

_You're_ _my perfect disease._


End file.
